


Nagedemort

by mareine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Love, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mareine/pseuds/mareine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Death Eaters are given a difficult task: helping their Master overcome his weakness of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nagedemort

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on fanficiton.net under the same name 8/May/2011.
> 
> For some reason, most of the italics aren't showing up.

Lucius was being Summoned. He knew it even before the searing pain in his Dark Mark reminded him of its presence. He grabbed his arm, clutched at his chair, ground his teeth together noiselessly to try and ride the wave of pain. His wife and son noticed this, and regarded him worriedly. The burn started to recede slowly. He could focus his eyes again. He found the matching orbs of his son. The concern in those identical orbs mirrored the worry that his wife didn’t bother to conceal.   
  
Lucius licked his lips as he let go of his arm. As the blood rushed into the limb, he rose and told his family shortly that he was being summoned. Narcissa swallowed and nodded, folding her hands on her knee, dark eyes wide and following his movements. She quietly wished him luck. He nodded in thanks, before looking at his son. Draco said nothing, eyes flickering away from his father’s face and to the embers of the fireplace.  
  
( _He shouldn’t fear his Master so_ )  
  
He grasped his cane and strode out of the sitting room, long legs taking him through the darkened hallway. With a simple flick of his wand, his heavy travelling cloak appeared in his hand. He grasped the doorknob and left the Manor.  
  
Concentrating on the feel of his Dark Mark, Lucius Apparated. The sensation of being squeezed into a straw came, then as the pressure alleviated, the sight of the Dark Lord’s latest hideout met his eyes. He took a deep breath, and composed himself quickly, before striding towards the small, snow-covered cottage. As soon as he came within three paces of the door, it opened up to reveal Pettigrew. Lucius turned his nose up at him out of reflex and sneered down haughtily at him.  
  
“The Dark Lord awaits you, Lucius,” said the unkempt man, before he skittered away into the darkness of the house. Lucius gave an internal sigh before striding after him, knowing that he was to follow. Pettigrew went up the stairs and scuttled down the dim hallway, going all the way down to the last door. He knocked timidly.  
  
“Enter,” came the muffled, but nevertheless high and cold voice from the other side of the door. Pettigrew gripped the doorknob and turned it. Lucius noticed that his nails were uncut and had all sorts of dirt and filth underneath them. Pettigrew swung the door in and bowed his head.  
  
“Lucius, my Lord,” he said. Voldemort nodded from the armchair placed in front of the fire, and lifted a hand from Nagini’s coils to wave him off. Pettigrew wasted no time and scampered away. Lucius stepped in the gloomy room and closed the door behind him with some apprehension. The place was bare, and didn’t seem very lived-in. There was a desk on the far wall, a fireplace with roaring flames, in front of which the Dark Lord was sitting, and a double bed against the opposite wall. The walls were bare, and there were three windows, though they were all covered by dark, moth-eaten curtains. Only the curtains on the far wall let a sliver of light in.  
  
Lucius tried his hardest not to tremble. It was unusual for Death Eaters to be summoned alone. At least he knew he wouldn’t be executed; the Dark Lord liked to do that in front of the others, to make an example of traitors. It was more likely that he’d be punished for something he had (or hadn’t) done.  
  
“My Lord?” he finally asked, when he couldn’t bear the silence anymore. “You wished to see me?”  
  
The Dark Lord did not respond to him immediately. Nagini shifted her coils and rose slightly to hiss at him. “I have been thinking, Lucius,” he started, his voice slow and purposeful. “Ever since I possessed Potter on the Atrium floor, I have not been able to keep these thoughts at bay.”  
  
“My Lord?” Lucius repeated, not understanding.  
  
Voldemort sighed. “I am in need of your counsel, Lucius.” Internally, he felt some of his worry dissipate. “I have discovered a…how do I put this? I have become even more aware of my weak point.”  
  
Lucius remained still and silent. The words the Dark Lord had just uttered were important, and most likely dangerous if he let anything slip to anyone else. And the Dark Lord wanted to share this information with him! He gulped internally.  
  
“When I possessed Potter, I could not stand to take control of his body for very long. And before I possessed his blood, I could not stand to touch the boy. Do you know why, Lucius?”  
  
He shook his head and remained silent.  
  
“His mother’s protection, Lucius,” the Dark Lord hissed almost angrily, turning burning ruby eyes to Lucius’ own cool grey ones. “Do you know what that consists of?”  
  
Lucius swallowed hard. “Her…love, my Lord?”  
  
“Yes.” Voldemort looked at least appeased, for the moment. “Love,” he spat the word, as if it were something foul, “is Potter’s advantage.” He turned to look at Lucius expectantly. “I must overcome this disadvantage, Lucius. I must learn love.”  
  
Lucius did not know what to say. He was speechless for too long. Voldemort raised an eyebrow and said coolly, “Have you no counsel for me, my friend?”  
  
He knew that at the moment the Dark Lord considered him anything but a friend, but he said, “I…I must admit you took me by surprise, Master. I will look into this and see what I can do for you.”  
  
Voldemort did not look satisfied, but settled back down in his chair and turned back to face the fire. “You will be back here tomorrow, with something.”  
  
Lucius took that as his dismissal. “Yes, my Lord.” He bowed stiffly to him, before grasping the doorknob behind him and exiting backwards. He allowed himself to breathe freely as he left the Dark Lord’s stifling presence. He strode down the corridor and went downstairs, ignoring Wormtail and going straight for the door. He took several paces, until he was outside of the wards, before Apparating back to the Manor.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lucius had thought long and hard about what he was to do in helping the Dark Lord with his weakness. He had even barricaded himself in his study for the rest of the day, going through various books, but tomes on the dark arts didn’t exactly tell how to conquer love. How to strip love from someone, yes, but not how to help someone become more predisposed to love. In the end, he had gone out to Diagon Alley and gotten a child’s toy. A magical baby, to be precise. He told himself that babies were soft and cuddly and that they could inspire great joy and love in most people. He knew that the Dark Lord was not ‘most people’, but he couldn’t do anything else on such short notice. Narcissa flat out told him it was a bad idea, before calling a house-elf and telling it to prepare the potion to treat the after-effects of the Cruciatus.  
  
He Apparated to the cottage around two in the afternoon. The baby toy was wrapped in his travelling cloak, and tucked in the crook of his arm, perhaps to help with the illusion of it being real. Its accompanying toys were in a shrunken down bag in one of his pockets. Wormtail showed him in once again, glancing surreptitiously at the lump underneath the cloak.  
  
Voldemort was not amused when Lucius showed him what he had brought. He glanced between the sleeping doll’s face and Lucius several times, before a mocking grin spread across his face. “What is this, Lucius?”  
  
“A baby, my Lord,” Lucius responded, as if it were obvious.  
  
“And what am I to do with a baby?” Nagini had uncoiled from the armchair and slithered towards the bundle, her tongue flickering in and out.  
  
“The idea was to care for it, my Lord. It is through care that one learns love.”  
  
Voldemort gave a tiny snort. “I have no wish to care for a baby, Lucius. I do not like children. And I especially detest infants.”  
  
“Then this exercise will be doubly beneficial, my Lord; you will not only get over your weakness of love, but also your disdain for children.”  
  
Voldemort raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. Lucius only gave a cool smile, and offered the doll to Voldemort, who, after a few moments of inner conflict, grudgingly accepted it. The baby opened its eyes and cooed at Voldemort, whose eyes went as round as saucers. Nagini had glided back up and onto the chair and was looking at it in interest.  
  
Lucius conjured up a small table, small enough to go more or less unnoticed, took out the bag with the additional toys and un-shrunk it, taking out a bottle, a spoon, a bowl, two changes of clothes, a shrunken pram, a shrunken crib, and a rattle. He lifted out the spare diaper with his forefinger and his thumb. He set the stroller and the crib on the floor and pointed his wand at one and then the other, and they grew slowly back to their former sizes. He had debated to himself whether or not the Dark Lord would make use of the stroller, but in the end had decided to include it anyway.  
  
He cleared his throat. “My Lord?” Voldemort turned around to face him, eyes still wide. He was probably confused. Or traumatized. “These are its accompaniments. I trust you know what everything is for?”  
  
The Dark Lord stared at the pram. “What is that?”  
  
“A pram. You put the baby in it when you take a walk together.”  
  
Voldemort’s eyes shrunk back down to glare at him. “The infant obviously does not know how to walk,” he said dryly, shooting it a nasty look. “Therefore, we will not be taking walks together.”  
  
“Well, you will be walking, and the baby will be sitting. Nevertheless, you’ll still be together.”  
  
Voldemort gave a scowl Severus would be proud of. “This entire idea is ludicrous!”  
  
“Perhaps,” commented Lucius neutrally. “Shall I come back tomorrow to check on the both of you, my Lord?”  
  
Voldemort grumbled something in the affirmative and Lucius took his leave.  
  
Draco looked up at him when he entered. “Has it been blown up yet?” he asked.  
  
Lucius gave him a dry look. “Why would the Dark Lord blow up a doll?”  
  
Draco shrugged nonchalantly. “Why would he try to blow up a real baby?” And he walked away.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lucius went back over there the next day. The baby was lying on the table Lucius had conjured, its mouth open in silent wails, snot and tears covering its face. Voldemort was leaning against the desk, peering out the window, but he turned to face Lucius when he entered.  
  
“Crucio.” The spell hit Lucius as soon as he stepped over the threshold, and he hadn’t been mentally prepared. He screamed out and fell to the floor, thrashing about until the Dark Lord finally lifted the spell.  
  
“Ten hours, Lucius!” came the utterly furious hiss. Lucius felt spittle land on his cheek as his irate Master neared. “Ten hours, that thing has been crying! Do you know how much sleep I’ve gotten?! Not even five hours! It woke me up at three, and only shut up around seven! Then it continues an hour later! Crucio!”  
  
Lucius screamed and thrashed about some more, but even this did not seem to appease the Dark Lord. He pointed his wand firmly at the doll and said, “Bombar—“  
  
“My Lord, no!” Lucius grabbed a fistful of Voldemort’s robes.  
  
“You dare try and stop me, Lucius? Have I not tortured you enough, then?” Voldemort demanded as he turned to glare down at the blond.  
  
“Master, please…I will calm it…if you permit…”  
  
Voldemort angrily snatched his robes away and stormed to the other side of the room, where he resumed his perch against the desk. Lucius took that as permission to pacify the doll, and pushed himself up slowly, shakily. He limped over to the table, and picked the doll up. It was lighter than a real baby, or at least what he remembered from holding Draco as an infant. He took out his embroidered handkerchief and started to gently wipe its face (afterwards, he took special care to Scourgify it several times). It continued to open and close its mouth, wailing noiselessly underneath the Silencing Charm, so Lucius took the bottle, which automatically “filled” itself, put the bottle nipple to its mouth, and it latched on immediately. It continued to drink until the bottle was “empty”, afterward, Lucius took the handkerchief and placed it over his shoulder, and hoisted the baby up so that its head was resting on his shoulder and its bottom was being supported by the crook of his arm. He gently started patting the doll’s back. When he felt it had burped, he turned to look at Voldemort with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. The Dark Lord regarded him coolly, his arms crossed, twirling his wand in his right hand.  
  
“Would you like to hold it, my Lord?” Lucius asked, coming closer.  
  
Voldemort made no move to take the doll. “I had believed that the Malfoys were wealthy enough to afford house-elves to take care of their children. It seems I was mistaken,” he said seriously.  
  
Lucius flushed, the color rising quickly to his cheeks. “We do have house-elves, my Lord, however, I enjoyed taking care of my son.”  
  
Voldemort did not reply. He simply stared at the doll sleeping on Lucius’s shoulder.  
  
“Would you take off the Silencing Charm, my Lord? It seems to be asleep.”  
  
Voldemort gave a scowl, and grudgingly waved his wand. The baby remained silent. Lucius walked over to the crib and laid it down softly.  
  
“What is the handkerchief for?”  
  
Lucius had nearly forgotten that he still had it on his shoulder and took it down to put back in his pocket. “If it spits up, my Lord, then it won’t get on your robes.”  
  
Voldemort looked unimpressed. “Are you or are you not a wizard?”  
  
“Of course I am. But the smell seems to linger on robes.”  
  
The look did not fade from the Dark Lord’s face. Lucius quickly decided that he had overstayed his welcome. “I shall go, my Lord. I will be back tomorrow.”  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lucius came back the next day to find the Dark Lord absent, and Wormtail Vanishing up ashes in the corner.  
  
“What happened?!” Lucius demanded him.  
  
“The Dark Lord blew up the little doll,” Wormtail said simply.  
  
“But..! Why? I spent nearly 200 Galleons on all of that!”  
  
Pettigrew shrugged and continued making the ashes disappear. Lucius bit back a groan. “Where is he?”  
  
Pettigrew shrugged again. So Lucius left. Against his better judgment, he went to see his sister-in-law.  
  
“Lucius, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Rodolphus asked, after Lucius had been shown in by a quivering house-elf. Bellatrix was slumped in an armchair, shooting down magically-appearing flies.  
  
Lucius regarded her for a moment, before turning back to her husband. “I’ve come to ask something of Bellatrix, actually,” he said, in a tone that meant he was anything but pleased. Bellatrix put down her wand and glared at him, an eyebrow raised. “It’s for the Dark Lord.”  
  
She immediately perked up and shifted so she was sitting properly in the chair. “It’s for Master?” Lucius nodded. “I will do anything for him, anything at all!”  
  
Rodolphus shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but neither Lucius nor Bellatrix took note of him. “Well, Bella, he has confided in me that—“  
  
“If he has confided in you, then you should speak of it to no one!” she cried, looking highly affronted.  
  
“He has confided in me that he needs help in overcoming his weakness,” continued Lucius, as if he had not been interrupted.  
  
“A weakness?! Impossible! How dare you—“  
  
“If he conquers his weakness of love, then he can vanquish that Potter boy once and for all, Bella!” Lucius snapped.  
  
“Oh! I see… He has already spoken to all of us on this matter. And you think that he confided in you!” she tittered mockingly. “What can I do for him?”  
  
“Well…since you are…perhaps the most faithful of his servants,” here she tipped her head back with pride, “I thought you’d perhaps care for him as a wife would…”  
  
“WHAT?!” roared Rodolphus, jumping to his feet. Lucius was standing within the same moment.  
  
“No, no, ‘as a wife’, I meant—“  
  
Rodolphus had his wand out and was now pointing it firmly at the blond’s neck. “I refuse! My wife will not sleep with the Dark Lord!”  
  
“I simply meant that she would be around, and that she’d help him…as a wife might…” The wand jabbed into his neck. “Her sleeping with him was not what I was thinking of, Rodolphus!”  
  
The brunet did not relent, and Bellatrix had to come over and pull her husband back into his chair. Lucius sat back down stiffly, Rodolphus glaring daggers at him all the while. “And your own wife cannot do this because..?”  
  
“Because she is simply not as devoted to the Dark Lord as Bella is,” Lucius said matter-of-factly. Privately though, he knew that, one, Narcissa would never accept, and two, that the Dark Lord would not refuse flesh that was presented to him. And Lucius refused to put his wife in such a position. Bellatrix, however, he knew would not mind spreading her legs for the Dark Lord, and she would probably even enjoy it. That and he didn’t like Bella much.   
  
Rodolphus scowled, and Bella gave a titter and threw her arms around her husband. “I’ll do it, Lucius! I’ll do it for our Lord!” If it was possible, the brunet’s scowl deepened.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next day, Lucius Apparated over to the cottage and let himself in. He ignored Pettigrew, went up the stairs, and knocked on the Dark Lord’s door before entering. He found Bellatrix already there, on her knees beside the armchair in front of the fire, looking up at Voldemort adoringly as he spoke in parseltongue with Nagini. Lucius gave a tiny shudder; he had never liked hearing the Dark Lord speak in that language.  
  
“Lucius!” the Dark Lord said, almost cheerfully. “Bella has told me all about our new little plan.”  
  
“Has she?” Lucius responded dryly.  
  
Bellatrix tittered. “And the Dark Lord has told me all about your last plan, Lucius. A baby doll?” She let out a laugh. Lucius’ face darkened.  
  
“It was a good idea,” he insisted. “It should have worked. Even on Severus, it would have been a success.”  
  
Voldemort and Bellatrix shared a look, before Bella dissolved into loud cackles, and Voldemort into quiet, dark chuckles.  
  
“May we try that, Master?” Bella asked, when she had gotten her breath back.  
  
“Yes, that would be amusing,” he said, letting a hand fall into her wild curls. He didn’t even look at the blond standing in the doorway. “Leave us, Lucius.”  
  
The blond bowed and left backwards, scowling at being dismissed so quickly, but hoping that this new plan would work out.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He knew the plan had failed when a jet black owl swooped through the wards and landed in his study two days later. The letter was simple and to the point:  
  
Lucius,  
  
Your plan has failed.  
  
He bit back his groan and after several fruitless hours of thinking in his study, decided to visit Severus for help. The man was always very helpful, if one ignored all of his other degrading and insulting comments. He bid a quick goodbye to his family and Apparated to Hogwarts. The gates opened for him, he was on the Board of Governors, after all, and he strode in. He passed the Forbidden Forest, the iced-over lake, the Whomping Willow, and entered the castle. He hoped beyond hope that he would not see Dumbledore, and made his way down to the dungeons quickly. He wrapped his cloak a little tighter around himself to be protected from the colder dungeon air, and when he arrived in front of the Head of Slytherin’s office, knocked loudly. He heard the authorization to enter, turned the handle and went in.  
  
“Lucius?” came Snape’s almost surprised voice. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Can a man not come over simply to see his old friend?”  
  
“We were never friends,” said Severus dryly, not even getting up from his desk where he was marking papers to greet him.  
  
“Fine, Severus. I am in need of your assistance. It’s about…” He made a little noise, accompanied by a small gesture of his hand to show that he was talking about the Dark Lord.  
  
Snape glanced up at him and scowled. “You may speak freely, you know. Or do you doubt my warding skills?”  
  
“Compared to Albus Dumbledore? I’m afraid that I do doubt your skills.”  
  
“No doubt you’d be more comfortable talking about such delicate matters in your own home?”  
  
“Indeed, I would,” Lucius said, pleased Severus was being so thoughtful.  
  
“It’s a pity, since I am quite comfortable where I am.”  
  
(I knew that one was coming)  
  
“Well…” he started, but he was still uneasy.  
  
“What is it, Lucius?” Severus sighed, finally putting down his quill.  
  
“Can’t we go somewhere else, Severus?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Please, Severus. These are delicate matters, I can’t speak of them unless—“  
  
“Then do not speak of them, Lucius,” Snape responded silkily.  
  
“Severus! Please, it is important!”  
  
“I did not think that you would come all this way to speak of trivial matters.”  
  
“Severus!”   
  
“Lucius…”  
  
The blond leapt at the dark haired man and grabbed his wrist. Severus immediately lifted his head and shot Lucius a dark glare. The blond withered internally, but held on to his wrist. “Severus, please…come with me!”  
  
Severus scowled, before resuming his glaring. Lucius trembled, but repeated his request.  
  
Severus’ face darkened. “I suppose you’ll just keep me from my work until you’ve gotten what you want?” He gave a snort, and wrenched his wrist out of the blond’s grip. He moved towards the door and took his winter cloak from a hook near the door. Lucius followed. The two men walked through the dungeons and ascended the stairs to reach the ground floor. Snape wrapped his cloak around his shoulders as they stepped outside.  
  
“What is it, Lucius?” he said exasperatedly, when they were near the Forest.  
  
“The Dark Lord wishes to overcome his weakness of love.” Severus looked up at him, surprised.  
  
“Is that even possible?” he said disbelievingly, leaning coolly against a tree.  
  
“Well, I am trying,” replied Lucius, mimicking the gesture.  
  
Snape gave an almost chuckle. “I suspect this is another punishment for your failure.”  
  
Lucius colored and pointedly looked away. “Draco does not deserve to be punished for my failings,” he finally said heatedly.  
  
“True,” Snape said simply. They stood in silence for a while. Snow started to fall all around them. “You needed my help?”  
  
“My second idea has failed,” he said, misery seeping his voice. “The first was with a baby doll. He blew it up on the third day. The second idea was Bella.”  
  
“A baby doll, Lucius?” Severus asked, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.  
  
“Why does everyone keep using that tone?” Lucius demanded, upset.  
  
The dark haired man let out a chuckle, incredibly similar to the Dark Lord’s, Lucius noted. “It is easy to see why your plans have failed. You started in the middle, instead of working your way up. You cannot just expect the Dark Lord to have the patience and know how to care for an infant, whether it’s a child’s toy or not. It’s like dropping someone who doesn’t know how to swim in the middle of the ocean and telling them to swim to shore; it’s simply bound to fail.”  
  
“Fine,” said the blond haughtily. “What do you suggest, then?”  
  
There it was again, that smile threatening to actually appear on the sour man’s face. “I will bring him something tomorrow.”  
  
Lucius blinked at him for a few seconds. He was the one that was supposed to accomplish this mission, this mission that, if successful, would hopefully get him and his family back in the Dark Lord’s good graces.  
  
“I…Severus…”  
  
“Don’t worry, Lucius. I will not forget,” Snape said smoothly, before sweeping away back to the castle, his cloak billowing impressively behind him.  
  
Lucius scowled and went back to his manor.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next day, at precisely two in the afternoon, Lucius left to go to the cottage. He let himself in again, and when he had entered the Dark Lord’s room, neither Snape nor Bellatrix were anywhere to be seen.  
  
“My Lord?” he asked. “Where is Bellatrix?”  
  
Voldemort gave a wave of his hand from where he was lounging on the bed. “She does not know much about love, it seems.” His lipless mouth split into a wicked grin. “She knows much about pleasure, but that is another thing entirely.”  
  
Lucius was still.   
  
(Well, it was a long shot)  
  
“And…Severus, my Lord?”  
  
“He came by this morning and dropped off this little seedling,” he gestured to a little pot that Lucius had not noticed, sitting on top of the little table he had conjured for the baby toys. “He says it will be an orchid in due time, providing that I care for it.”  
  
“He gave you…a plant?” Lucius demanded, looking at the tiny pot disdainfully.  
  
Voldemort gave a chuckle. Lucius was once again reminded of the similarity of their laughs. “He also mentioned that taking care of a plant was much easier than taking care of an infant child.” He turned accusing eyes to Lucius and the blond shrunk down slightly. “Oh Lucius,” the Dark Lord all but purred, fingering his wand. “I should punish you for that, putting me through that sleepless night…”  
  
Lucius fell to his knees. “Please forgive me, Master, I—“  
  
The Cruciatus came. The blond cried out, and fell forward. The curse was not held for nearly as long as Lucius had expected, and he jerked his head up shakily to watch Voldemort get off the bed and approach the pot.  
  
“I want to use the Quick-Growth Spell, to save myself all of this trouble,” he said, almost to himself, “but Severus insisted that the results are more than worth all the extra time and effort…”  
  
Lucius pushed himself shakily to his feet, and Voldemort continued looking at the soil inside the pot, occasionally prodding it and turning the soil over with his wand.  
  
“Do you like the smell of soil, Lucius?” Voldemort asked suddenly.  
  
“Er, not particularly, my Lord,” he replied, confused.  
  
“I find it…delicious. Even if, when one handles it with one’s hands, it gets everywhere, it is delicious to smell. So different from Bella’s perfume, which I’ve been suffocating on since you brought her here…” Here a nasty glare was thrown his way. “She smells like jasmine, and vanilla, and it’s extremely heavy. It gets locked in your head, and it won’t get out, not if you stay in her presence.”  
  
(Rodolphus is going to murder me. Or try anyway)  
  
“You may leave now, Lucius.”  
  
Lucius held his scowl back until he was safely out of the Dark Lord’s presence.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A week later saw Severus Snape was sitting at his seat in the Great Hall, eating his breakfast calmly, when an owl swooped down and deposed a letter on the scrambled eggs that he was just about to scoop up and into his mouth. Scowling, he took the letter and put it in his pocket; he would open it later, away from Albus’ prying eyes.  
  
He finished his breakfast and swept out of the hall. As soon as he was back in his quarters, he took the envelope out of his pocket, slipped his slim finger under the flap and opened it. The letter was simple and to the point:  
  
Severus,  
  
Your plan has failed.  
  
He tucked the parchment back into the envelope and set it on his desk. If he was honest with himself, he had expected the plant to last longer. It wasn’t as if you had to take care of it every day, like a wife or a baby. And plus it didn’t do anything. It couldn’t look at the Dark Lord wrongly. It wouldn’t talk. It couldn’t otherwise displease him. He wondered briefly to himself if he should tell Lucius that the plant had failed, but promptly dismissed the idea. Lucius probably knew already and was probably cackling gleefully to himself in his study, rubbing his hands together, joyful at his failing. Severus rolled his eyes and set fire to the letter, watching it burn idly until it was a pile of ashes on his otherwise pristine desk. He Vanished them and left his quarters, heading towards the Defense classroom.  
  
He took long strides as he walked through the corridors, and threw the door to the classroom open with a bang. The students quieted immediately. He stalked down past the desks to the blackboard and surveyed them all with glaring eyes.  
  
“We will be continuing to work on silent cursing today.” The students all stood and Snape waved his wand, making all the desks rearrange themselves against the walls. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws set to work immediately after being on the receiving end of a glare or two.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
“Draco,” Severus called when he spotted the blond in the hallway near curfew. His grey eyes flickered towards Snape’s form, then he turned the other way. “Draco!” he called louder, lengthening his strides. He ended up running, and eventually caught the blond boy by the arm.  
  
“Stop it! I still have a few more minutes before curfew, let go of me!”  
  
“Draco…your father—“  
  
“Stop it!” Draco nearly wrenched his own arm out of its socket in his attempt to get away. “I don’t need your help, I told you!”  
  
“I’m not talking about that!” Snape finally snarled. “And stop moving! Or must I Immobilize you to get you to listen?”  
  
Draco grudgingly stilled, though his body was still taut, ready to run off at any moment. Severus pulled him into a nearby classroom, and quickly warded the place to stop anyone from listening in. “It’s about the Dark Lord…”  
  
The boy gave an exasperated groan and tried to get away once again. “I said I don’t need your help, Snape—“  
  
Snape tightened his grip, making his student wince. “And I said that I wasn’t talking about that.” He gave a snarl and forced himself to let go of Draco and walk to the other side of the room, lest he truly hurt the boy. “Daft boy, if only you would listen…” He exhaled harshly, trying to drive his anger out through his breath.  
  
Draco sat on a desk and loosened his tie. “What do you want?” he finally said.  
  
“Your father has also been punished for his failure at the Department of Mysteries.”  
  
The mercury orbs flickered up to look at Snape’s back. “Should we be talking about this here?”  
  
“Its fine,” Snape replied dismissively. “I’ve warded it.” He took Draco’s silence as a sign to continue. “He wishes to overcome his weakness of love.”  
  
“I already know this, Snape,” Draco interrupted him tiredly.  
  
“Then you know that your father has already failed on two occasions. He asked for my aid, and I did not succeed.”  
  
There was a moment of silence. “What do you want?” Draco repeated.  
  
“I supposed that you might have an idea on helping—“  
  
“I already have a task, Snape!” he snapped. He fisted at his hair, his lip curling. “I can’t… I don’t…”  
  
“Just a simple idea, Draco,” Severus said soothingly. “Just an idea, and I will take care of the rest.”  
  
The blond slumped on top of the desk, eyes unseeing. He gave a sigh and turned his head, resting his forehead on the cool tabletop. “I don’t know. I have to think, Severus.”  
  
Snape nodded in acceptance, and waved his wand, taking down his wards. “Off to bed, then, Draco.”  
  
Draco pushed himself off and stood up, running a hand through his hair several times, fixing it back in its usual immaculate style. Snape opened the door and guided the blond through with a hand on his shoulder. In a few minutes they were in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room.  
  
“Goodnight, Draco.”  
  
“Goodnight, Severus.”  
  
The blond entered and disappeared, and the dark haired man swept off down the hallway, and was swallowed up by the shadows.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco stayed behind after Snape dismissed his 6th year Gryffindor/Slytherin class.  
  
(What a menace, that Potter!)  
  
The blond advanced towards the desk, looking tired. Snape just looked at him expectantly.  
  
“I think I have your idea,” Draco said simply, staring at Severus unflinchingly.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“But first I need to know what your other ideas had been.”  
  
Severus scowled and leaned back against his desk. “The first thing your father got him was a baby doll.” Draco gave a quiet chuckle at the memory. “The second time he got Bellatrix to act as his wife. My idea was a flower seedling.”  
  
“He didn’t like it?”  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
“Then I’m not sure my idea will be helpful.”  
  
“What is it?” Snape repeated.  
  
“You should get him a goldfish.”  
  
Severus stared at his pupil for a long time. He raised an eyebrow. “A…goldfish?”  
  
Draco nodded simply.  
  
“Draco…” Snape sighed. “You shouldn’t…I shouldn’t…getting him a living creature, it’s not…”  
  
Draco watched him, a hint of a smile on his mouth.  
  
“It’s not a good idea, Draco,” Snape finally said.  
  
“Why not?” he challenged.  
  
“A goldfish is a living thing. It has nerve endings. It will undoubtedly suffer before dying an extraordinarily painful death.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Draco asked, a full blown grin now on his face.  
  
“Of course I’m sure!” Severus snapped. “And wipe that grin off your face.”  
  
“I’ll tell you why your plant idea didn’t work, Severus,” Draco said, sitting on a desk. “A plant is much too boring. All it does is sit there, and if it had flowers it would perfume the room. But you gave him a seedling. He would have to work in order for it to flower. And the flower would have eventually died.”  
  
“And your little goldfish will die quickly, if not immediately.”  
  
“At least it’ll swim. It’ll move. It’ll interact with him.”  
  
Snape shook his head. “This is a bad idea.”  
  
Draco turned stony. “You wanted my help, didn’t you, Severus? And I’m giving you my help, even though I have a much more important task to fulfill.”  
  
“Your task would be finished quicker if you’d accept my aid!” Severus snapped.  
  
“I don’t want your help, Snape!” Draco shouted, leaping to his feet. “But you asked for mine, and then you throw it back in my face!” He grabbed his bag and stormed out of the classroom.  
  
“Dunderheaded boy!” Snape snarled at his back, before whipping around and blowing a dummy in the corner to pieces. “Fine! I’ll get you your blasted fish!” He threw himself down at his desk and grabbed a piece of parchment. He started scribbling furiously.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The next day, Saturday, Severus found himself going out of the castle and Apparating to the Dark Lord’s hideout. As soon as he popped in front of the cottage, he became aware of water soaking through his robes through one of his pockets. He scowled deeply, and took the plastic bag out of his pocket. The goldfish fell to the floor and started flopping about, suffocating on the air. He quickly repaired the bag and put the fish back in, and with a quick Aguamenti, it was swimming about carelessly, like it had been before he had Aparated. He gave it a fierce scowl, and it looked at him strangely before swimming to the other side of the bag.  
  
Snape stomped to the door. Wormtail opened the door and squeaked when he saw who it was. Severus ignored him and swept past him up the stairs. He went down the hall, to the last door and knocked.  
  
“Enter,” came Voldemort’s voice, and Snape turned the knob and entered, closing the door behind him. “Severus…” those ruby red eyes bore holes into his skull. “I was expecting you yesterday.”  
  
“Forgive me, my Lord,” said Snape smoothly. “But as Head of House I am not at full liberty to leave the castle whenever I wish.”  
  
A pale hand was waved impatiently in his direction. “Have you got anything for me?”   
  
“Of course.” Severus held out the plastic bag. The goldfish swam about in circles. Voldemort followed its movements for a while, before glancing back up at him.  
  
“What is this?”  
  
“It is a goldfish, my Lord.”  
  
“It’s wrongly named,” Voldemort commented. “It’s more orange than gold…”  
  
Snape did not know what he could say to that. So he said instead, “Is it to your liking?” Voldemort shrugged, and Snape took that as consent. Taking out his wand, he pointed it at the small table against the wall and conjured a large circular bowl. He opened the bag up and unceremoniously dumped the water, and the fish, into the bowl. It continued to swim about in circles. Severus reached into his pocket and took out a small plastic container of fish food and set it on the table next to the bowl.  
  
They both stared at the little fish for a while.  
  
“What am I to do with it?” Voldemort finally said, eyes still following its movements.  
  
“Well, you feed it, and occasionally clean out its bowl.”  
  
“Clean out the bowl? Why?”  
  
“Because it’ll start to stink.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because it doesn’t have a designated toilet area.”  
  
“So it swims in its own..?”  
  
“Mmm.”  
  
Voldemort’s eyes widened, but continued to watch the goldfish.  
  
Severus was silent, then he said, “My Lord, I must go before Dumbledore misses me.”  
  
“Fine,” replied Voldemort, still transfixed by the little creature in the bowl. Severus regarded him, before tearing his eyes away and leaving.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lucius,  
  
Of course I have gotten an alternative item for the Dark Lord. You might be pleased to note that it was Draco who came up with the idea. However you might not be so pleased when you find yourself under the Cruciatus when this new idea does not work out, as foolish as it is.  
  
Draco suggestion was to get a goldfish. A goldfish! I have reservations about your choice in tutors when he was younger. That question will still remain even if the Dark Lord does not kill the creature within the first week.  
  
\--Snape  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was during the Christmas break that Voldemort decided to call Lucius again. Lucius had been sitting in the lounge staring into the fire, a glass of brandy cradled in his cool hands, when the searing pain travelled up his left arm. He gasped in shock and the glass fell from his hands and spilled all over the expensive carpet. He didn’t even notice and clutched at his forearm harshly. His wife waved her wand and the alcohol disappeared. She could only stare at her husband as he attempted to ride the wave of pain. After a few moments, Lucius panted for a moment before finally straightened in his chair, his face pinked.  
  
“I must go.”  
  
Narcissa nodded. He stood shakily and left.  
  
He Apparated to the cottage and straightened his robes before striding towards the door. Pettigrew got the door open before he could and Lucius scowled at having to see him. He brushed past him and went up to the Dark Lord’s room. He knocked and was allowed to enter. To his surprise, Severus and Draco were also there, but none of the other Death Eaters were.  
  
“Ah, Lucius!” Voldemort said, a psychotic grin splitting his face. “So glad you could join us!”  
  
“Anytime, my Lord,” he responded politely, closing the door behind him.  
  
“Oh Lucius, I had to invite you over, since Severus informed me that it was your son that came up with the idea to get me Nagedemort!”  
  
“Nage—pardon, my Lord?”  
  
“The fish, Lucius! The fish!” Voldemort was suddenly bending over, peering at the goldfish swimming in circle in its bowl, which now had small pebbles and aquatic plants at the bottom. “I call him Nagedemort.”  
  
Lucius chanced a dubious glance at Severus. The dark haired man was impassive as ever, eyes transfixed on Voldemort’s figure, and a pale hand gripping Draco’s shoulder tightly. Draco was pale, one fist scrunching up his expensive robes.  
  
“He is wonderful,” the Dark Lord continued, almost as if to himself. “Watch how when he approaches the weed they part to allow him passage!” He looked over at Lucius, eyes glowing with warning. “You should be proud of your son, Lucius.”  
  
“I am, my Lord,” he responded, standing a little straighter.  
  
“However, you should be ashamed of yourself.” A wand movement was his only warning before he was writhing on the floor, underneath the Cruciatus. “Giving me a baby, then having Bella sleep with me… I even had to punish Rodolphus because he wouldn’t stop staring at me…”  
  
He finally lifted the curse and turned to Severus instead. “Severus…” the dark haired man averted his eyes. “The plant was much too boring. You will be punished as well.”  
  
Lucius noted sulkily that Severus hadn’t been under the torture curse for nearly as long as he had. Voldemort gave Snape a smile, before turning back to his goldfish.  
  
“Look at him! He’s laughing!” Nagedemort’s mouth was opening and closing, but didn’t fish do that all the time? “He likes watching you suffer… Perhaps I should do it again, to indulge him…”  
  
And that was how all three of them found themselves under the Cruciatus, much to the delight of Voldemort and Nagedemort.  
  
“I told you…it was a bad idea…” Snape hissed to Draco when they were finally sent away.  
  



End file.
